In pajamas i snuck out to watch santa
Death is the only road from nostalgia
The decay in this life i've lived astounds me, the death,
Becoming a good rapper ain't that easy of a process
This rap shit til the death of libertines
Ima let her be by herself in peace
My style is inconceivable the reason for your death
Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears
See i can’t keep you baby girl i'mma confess
I always tell the truth even if it leads to my death
And now the chance of my death increases.
Oh how she love the gangstas, they love them green ones
I hope she's blessed and her mom copes with the death
My bitches ballin' to the maya moore's, yes
That's why i always think i'm kicking something with feeling
The certainty of death is gradually increasing,
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